


Chasing Legends (that kill)

by End



Series: Azul Waters [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Thieves, Gen, Magical Realism, Non-Linear Narrative, based sorta on Magic Kaito and sorta on Kaitou St. Tail, mostly Magic Kaito, shrugs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 08:56:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11643189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/End/pseuds/End
Summary: He looks over the city from his perch on the windowsill, tracing the streetlights absentmindedly. The wind howls in his ears, blowing his hair into disarray. Still, he sits on the ledge, looking down every so often at the blur of cars below. The necklace is hanging from the window's latch, jewel pendant catching the moonlight and throwing it into the room.The door slams open. He grins.((Or, in which Lance is an internationally wanted thief, chasing the legend that led to his mother's death.))





	1. Smoke and Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> hey,,,,, guys,,,,,,  
> so,,,, uh,,,, i'm not gonna bother with excuses i promise i'm working on I Have Stepped Through but all my inspiration is going into later chapters instead of early season 1 chapters so,,,, haha whoops
> 
> anyway i don't know if y'all know this but i binge read Detective Conan in 2 weeks and fell in love w/ Kaitou KID so uh,,,, yeah,,,,
> 
> anyway I wanted to post this while it was still my lovely blue boy's birTHDAY GOD BLESS (it's 9:10 p.m. PST so,,,,)
> 
> HAPPY BIRTHDAY LANCE!!!!!!!!

_“Ladies and Gentlemen!”_

 

The whole area shuts down, black with a light-hearted darkness expected more from a show than a crime. Spotlights spark to life, and basked in their light one more is the thief, glowing moonlight white and soft yellow. Smoke rises up from the floor, thick and white.

 

 _“I do so thank you all for attending tonight,”_ croons the thief, taking easy steps down an invisible surface with a practiced grace. Each step echoes across the clearing, and the crowd watches in awe as rose petals begin to fall from the sky at the snap of gloved fingers.

 

“Blue!” Shouts someone, an angry bark amongst the awed chattering of the crowd. The police officer bares his teeth dangerously. “Turn yourself in or we’ll take you down ourselves!” There’s a lilting laugh, pleasant like bells, and the thief raises a gloved hand to cover the curl of lips behind the sheer veil that drapes over the right side of a narrow face.

 

 _“I’d rather not,”_ the thief laughs, finally touching the ground and approaching the podium where the jewel is being held.. _“How can I provide a show if I’m locked away?”_ The white fabric of the blazer shifts, and then the wind blows all the smoke away in a single gust. More laughing, and a quick glance down shows that the gem is gone. _“Thank you for cooperating, officers,”_ says Blue, grinning widely behind a gloved hand. The other is raised, a shimmering jewel held firmly between the index and the thumb. It’s a fake, but the only people that can tell are Blue and the main detectives tracking the criminal. _“It is very much appreciated.”_ Another snap and the thief is gone in a puff of brightly colored smoke and glitter.

 

The crowd quickly erupts into noise- mostly cheers, with the occasional curse or displeased shout of an officer as they stumble into traps. One helicopter angles it’s spotlight into the crowd, following a movement of white until it makes it into a building.

 

Takashi Shirogane scans the area with sharp eyes, searching for trap triggers. He steps carefully over a tripwire, set on the staircase. Narrowly avoiding a set of lasers his own division set up as a countermeasure for the damned thief (which, quite obviously, did not work) he dives across the floor and hops back up just in time to reach the door. It opens easily, unlocked despite the many locks they had set on it from the inside. He scowls, rushing up to the third floor where the real jewel is being displayed.

 

“Stop right there!” He cries, panting only slightly. The thief turns and grins, hands hovering over the open glass case.

 

 _“Detective Shirogane, darling! It’s truly a pleasure. Are you enjoying the show?”_ Asks Blue, head tilted in faux curiosity.

 

“Don’t give me that,” Shiro growls, pulling his gun from his holster and raising it. “Keep your hands where I can see them. You won’t get away this time.”

 

Blue smiles, lifting gloved hands innocently. _“Is that so? I suppose I better make this heist memorable, then.”_ A finger twitches, and then thick smoke fills the room, a dense pink. The last thing Shiro sees before the smoke completely fills his vision is a sharp, shark-like grin as Blue tugs on a gas mask.

 

“Damn you, Blue!” He shouts, lowering his gun and taking shallow breaths. He will not be reckless, no matter how irritating the thief may be. He can distantly hear the case shut through the smoke-induced haze, and he stumbles forward blindly, vision blurring.

 

 _“Goodnight, Detective,”_ Blue lilts, voice far-off. _“Don’t hate me too much. You really do need more sleep.”_

 

The world goes black.

 

-

 

Across the city, only minutes later, another crowd, another jewel. The lights go out in waves within the showroom, until there is only a spotlight, tracing a weaving path between the tables all the way up to the stage. A trail of blue petals leads up the stairs and ends in front of the podium, where the thief stands, leaning lazily against the glass case.

 

“Blue!” Someone shouts from a distant corner of the room. Heavy footsteps pound across the room, and the screech of chairs moving to avoid the thin stream of police officers has the thief perking up with a grin. “Damn thief, weren’t you supposed to be on the other end of the city?”

 

 _“Why, officers,_ ” Lips curl up into a smirk, _“I am a magician! You didn’t think I would be late to my own show, did you? Shame on you!”_ A snap of gloved fingers, and then the glass cover disappears into smoke.

 

“Was the other heist note a fake, then?” someone asks from the crowd.

 

 _“Not at all,”_ Blue replies, waving a hand. _“I simply booked two shows for the night! After all, my darling audience awaits, and it simply wouldn’t do to give only half of them a proper show, don’t you think?”_

 

The crowd cheers, and the policemen curse, still pushing through the seats and people. Blue turns towards the case once more, raising the pin to the light with a twist of lips. _“My, my. This will not do,”_ tuts the thief turning it over between gloved hands. _“Another fake? Don’t tell me you’ve hidden it amongst the guests… Ah, what a pain.”_ Sharp blue eyes scan through the crowd.

 

“You’ll have to come to us if you want it, Blue,” Matthew Holt says, motioning to the pin on his lapel. He smirks, a pair of handcuffs hanging loosely from his hand.

 

 _“Ah, It’s the younger Detective Holt! What a pleasure it is to see you again, sweetheart,”_ Blue purrs, stepping forward with outstretched hands. The smile returns to the thief’s face, unwavering. _“I was wondering what happened to you when I didn’t see you earlier tonight. You know, you should really take care of darling Shirogane. He hasn’t been getting nearly enough sleep lately. It’s quite worrying.”_

 

Matt blinks, taking a step back. His hands tighten around his handcuffs. “What-”

 

The lights suddenly come to life again, bright and blinding.

 

 _“Not that you’re much better, I must say,”_ Blue whispers into his ear, shadow blocking out the light in his eyes so that hazel meets blue, startlingly close. _“Thank you very much for this, Detective Holt.”_

 

And then Blue is gone.

 

“Damn it!”

 

-

 

Moonlight filters into the room on the second floor through the high-up windows, showering the vintage wood-backed velvet couches and sturdy metal work benches along the wall in soft white light. Just below the windows (in a blind spot, just in case one finds that peeking in through the windows in search of incriminating evidence is a good idea), is a thin but sturdy cherrywood armoire, hidden in the shadows of the wall. From the vantage point one might take whilst ‘observing’ the room, there is no visible door upon any of the three visible walls. There is large portrait of a woman in a long, high waisted royal blue skirt and a flowy, sleeveless white blouse, blazer hanging loosely from her shoulders, arms spread wide and doves flying out from behind her, reaching from a foot above the floor to a few feet below the ceiling, and a decorative wooden desk with a spray of white lilies (purity, sympathy, majesty,) and purple gladioli (strength of character, sincerity, moral integrity, ~~ha~~ ), with a notable center of bright petunias (resentment, your presence soothes me).

 

For a short moment, the view from the window goes entirely dark, and if one to wave a hand between the glass and the moonlight that filters in through the the tree’s branches, one would notice that it should be impossible for the light to have disappeared from the room. One could assume that something akin to shutters has been lowered over the windows by an unknown person within the house, which would be proven by the faint yellow outline that suddenly appears at the edges of the glass.

 

Within the room itself, though invisible now to any outside spectators, stands a _very familiar_ thief.

 

The blazer comes off first, gloved hands carefully pulling every trick and mechanism from each pocket, them the hems and sleeves. Next to come off is the thin velvet choker, functional solely for fashion purposes, and then the rest of the black button-up gets unbuttoned, and a few roses slip from the sleeves. From this the thief pulls away long reels of nearly invisible string from the seams of the cuff. Once that is done, the armoire opens, and each item is tucked away into specialized drawers. A loose-fitting t-shirt slides over the exposed tan chest of the thief, hiding the lean muscles of an acrobat.Shoes come off quickly, thin needles pulled away from a compartment in the heel and swiftly placed into a flower shaped pincushion. The pockets of pure white slacks are emptied quickly and efficiently, and those fall away too, leaving the shirt to cover all but the barest hint of black fabric to peek under the grey fabric. An earpiece, nude in color and nearly invisible against tanned skin, is removed and shut off, pressed into a nook in the front corner by the top drawer. The decorative clip and veil is carefully pulled from dark brown caresses of short, curly hair, revealing a more identifiable face. High cheek bones and faint freckles, a pair of distinct and symmetrical beauty marks just below the far corners of both eyes. Long eyelashes and unnaturally blue eyes, made all the more obvious by dark red wings of eyeliner. A soft glimmer of gold on heart-shaped lips,corners curled upwards in a smug smile. Thin and shapely eyebrows, kept neat and straight, like the curve of his jaw. The gloves come off last, pulled off and folded neatly, tucked away in a drawer.

 

The thief steps over to a vanity, next to a small sink and a medicine cabinet. From the medicine cabinet comes a bottle of saline, a packet of wipes, and a small plastic container composed of two small circles. Blue looks into the mirror, and then the mask falls away.

 

Lance takes a moment to wash his hands, a familiar action that pulls him farther away from the smug mindset of the thief. The package of wipes opens, and makeup is unceremoniously wiped away. He unscrews the side of the contact case marked ‘right’ and squeezes new saline into it, then leans over the sink and opens his eyes wide, holding his eyelid open with one hand and carefully removing the specialized lense from his eye. He repeats the action on the other side, then looks up at the new reflection staring back at him- dark blue eyes, slightly sunken and world-weary from long nights of planning and heists. He looks softer, younger, less smug and confident and more tired and defeated.

 

He heaves a long sigh, picking up a slender smartphone from the vanity and unlocking it with a swipe of a thumb.

 

**_1:37 a.m._ **

 

 **_Pidge:_ ** _get home safely?_

_matt’s hella pissed, by the way_

_what’d you do?_

Lance huffs a laugh and types out a response.

 

 **_Lance:_ ** _aside from 2 heists in one night?_

_may or may not have knocked shiro out_

_i mean, he needs more sleep anyway, but…_

 

 **_Pidge:_ ** _oh my god_

_no_

_you didnt_

 

 **_Lance:_ ** _whoops???_

_haha_

 

 **_Pidge:_ ** _youre horrible_

_damn it im not running damage control for you tomorrow_

_you better get your ass over here tomorrow_

_say we planned it before the heist or something_

 

 **_Lance:_ ** _yeah yeah_

_will do_

_see you ʀ✓_

 

Pidge doesn’t answer after that. He moves onto the second notification.

 

**_1:38 a.m._ **

 

 **_Hunk:_ ** _How’d it go?_

 

 **_Lance:_ ** _good_

_got the gems & checked ‘em _

_performed a little show_

_lead the force around a bit_

_knocked out shiro w/ sleeping gas_

 

 **_Hunk:_ ** _He needs the sleep anyway_

 

 **_Lance:_ ** _that’s what i said!!!_

_pidge says matt’s hella pissed abt it tho_

_i mean,,,,that’s sorta my fault????_

_but like,,, i didnt expect him to take it so seriously_

 

 ** _Hunk:_** _Did you flirt with him in costume again_

_We talked about this, Lance_

_You can’t flirt with your detectives on the job_

 

 **_Lance:_ ** _but hunk,,,_

_theyre so cute when they do the thing????_

_like,,, his eyes!!!! are so pretty!!!!_

_besides_

_if i dont do something no one will_

_we know this_

 

 ** _Hunk:_** _Lance_

_Last time you flirted with him like that Mr.Holt nearly shot you_

 

 **_Lance:_ ** _point_

_but also_

_and hear me out here_

_[image attached]: detectivematt.jpg]_

_adorable_

 

 **_Hunk:_ ** _Lance_

_No_

 

 **_Lance:_ ** _shrugs_

_ok well now im tired so_

_night_

 

 **_Hunk:_ ** _Good night_

_See you at Pidge’s_

 

Lance smiles and shuts off the screen, walking across the room to stand in front of the woman’s portrait. His eyes flicker to the spray of flowers on the desk, and he pauses for a long moment before pulling out one of the stalks of gladioli and pinning it upside down onto the wall to dry out. Then, he puts a hand on the wooden frame of the picture, glancing at the woman sadly, and then pulling it towards him like a door. It moves easily and closes just as so, the other side revealing a similar portrait, though more subdued.

 

He glances at this one too, trailing his fingers along the sweeping gesture of her hand, and then pulls away, turning to the dim hallway before him. He turns out the hall light and enters the nearest room, navigating through the dark room with ease. He throws open the curtains so the moonlight streams in and basks in it for a moment, taking a deep breath.

 

“Okay, Lance,” He murmurs into the night, “You’re making a difference. No one else will suffer the same fate again.”

 

He turns on his heel, curtains trailing after him, falls forward onto the bed, and falls asleep in an instant.


	2. Wires and Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance runs a little damage control. 
> 
> Everyone else wonders if Pidge has been replaced by a clone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not much substance, mostly fluff and text messages  
> i think it's cute but i mean  
> anyway enjoy i guess  
> please don't yell at me abt I Have Stepped Through im working on it i promise

**_7:23 a.m._ **

 

**_Lance:_ ** _ hey pidgeon im here _

 

_ pidge _

 

_ open the door _

 

_ did u die??? _

 

_ katie _

 

_ are u dead _

 

_ katie pls _

 

_ k a t i e _

 

_ open the door oh my god _

 

**_Pidge:_ ** _ im coming hold on _

 

**_Lance:_ ** _ YOURE ALIVE!!! _

 

**_Pidge:_ ** _ i was sleeping _

 

**_Lance:_ ** _ i brought coffee,,,, so,,,,  _

 

**_Pidge:_** _holy shit_

 

_ I’ll be right there _

 

**_Lance:_ ** _ glad to know you have ur priorities straight _

 

_ i feel /so/ loved _

 

_ what happened to damage control????? _

The door slams open. Pidge stands in the doorway, half dressed. Her hair is a mess, and her loose t-shirt hangs off one shoulder. She snatches a cup from his hands and takes a long sip.

 

“Good morning to you too,” Lance says, raising a brow in her direction. She flips him off and continues drinking. “Great, okay.”

 

She rolls her eyes and moves to the side, letting him in. “Is Hunk here yet?”

 

A raised brow. “Right, yeah. Okay.”

 

He moves further into the house, setting the cup holder onto the coffee table and taking his own drink. “So…” he starts, settling down onto one of the couches.

 

Pidge sets her drink down for a moment and plops down onto the footrest in front of him. “Do my hair,” She demands, grabbing her drink again. “Matt was still waking up last time I checked on him. Did you get him his drink?”

 

“Of course!” Lance replies, raising a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Who do you think I am?” 

 

She huffs a laugh. “A thief, probably.”

 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” he sighs, running his fingers through her hair. “Anyway, what am I doing today?”

 

Pidge shrugs. “Nothing too fancy, please,” She says pointedly.

 

Lance pouts. “Okay, fine…” He sighs, separating the top of her hair into three parts. “Just a normal braid today, I guess.”

 

Something clatters loudly to the floor from the hallway. “I’m okay!” Shouts a voice. Lance laughs a little and continues braiding down the back of Pidge’s head.

 

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Matt stumbles into the room, buttoning up the last of the buttons on his shirt. He looks up, rubbing at his eyes from under his glasses, and smiles. “Lance! I didn’t know you were coming over today!”

 

Lance laughs. “Yeah, well neither did I until around 2 in the morning yesterday. This one,” He motions to Pidge by lifting up the end of the braid to tie it off, “told me to run some damage control, so here I am,” He blinks as if surprised and turns back to Pidge with a furrow in his brow. “What kind of damage control did you even want me to do?”

 

Pidge flinches and turns to look at him as he lets go of her hair. “Well, uh, Matt came home angry last night, and, well,” She laughs nervously. “You’ve always been pretty good at cheering him up?”

 

Matt blinks. “Thanks, Katie,” He says slowly, surprised. “That’s so…  _ nice _ of you,” his smile morphs into a grin. “Are you sure you’re actually my sister and not like, a clone or something?”

 

“Hey!” Pidge huffs indignantly. “Last time I try to be nice to you.”

 

“No, no! Katie…” Matt breathes, still smiling. “You’re so  _ sweet! _ ” He throws his arms around her.

 

“Hey, hey! Get off me, you big-”

 

Lance swipes the cupholder and her drink off the table a second before Pidge’s flailing knocks it off. “Watch the drinks, Pidgeon!”

 

“Drinks?” Matt asks, letting her go and perking up.

 

Lance balances the cupholder carefully in one hand and pulls Matt’s drink out. “For you,” He says softly, an earnest smile on his face.

 

Matt flushes a little and takes it. “Thank you.”

 

Pidge scoffs and swipes her own drink back. “You guys are gross.”

 

“Katie-” 

 

Someone knocks at the door, and Matt move to get it. 

 

“No, I’ll get it,” Lance insists, pushing him back down onto the couch. I’m already standing and all.”

 

“You don’t have to…” Matt starts, but Lance has already turned away, navigating through the house with ease. 

 

“Let him get it,” Pidge says with a wave of her hand. “It’s probably just Hunk.”

 

“You invited Hunk over too?”

 

“Of course. He gives the best hugs.”

 

Matt sighs and reaches over to shove her shoulder. “Thanks, bird.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

-

 

**_7: 46 a.m._ **

 

**_Matt:_ ** _ Shiro oh my god _

 

_ u wont belive it _

 

**_Shiro:_ ** _ What? _

 

**_Matt:_ ** _ Katie invited Lance and Hunk over to cheer us up _

 

_ so hurry up and get here already  _

 

**_Shiro:_ ** _ I’m on my run right now, thanks. _

 

_ But you’re right, I don’t believe it. _

 

_ Are you sure that’s actually Katie? Seems pretty out of character for her. _

 

**_Matt:_ ** _ thats what i said!!!! _

 

_ but who cares???? _

 

_ Lance brought caffeine  _

 

_ Hunk’s hugs are like magic _

 

_ if this is a fake Katie she knows how to win my heart _

 

**_Shiro:_ ** _ I’m sure Katie would be glad to know where your loyalties lie. _

 

**_Matt:_ ** _ whatever _

 

_ anyway hurry up or i’ll take your drink too _

 

**_Shiro:_ ** _ Hey! _

 

Shiro shows up at the door minutes later, grinning up at Lance. “Hey,” he pants, pushing his hair out of his face. “I heard we were having a party?”

 

“Come on in,” Lance says with a roll of his eyes. “You look like you could use a hug from Hunk. Really, though, who doesn’t?”

 

Shiro laughs as he walks past him. “That is the truth.”

 

-

 

Shiro settles onto the couch with a sigh, relaxing into the cushions easily. Lance laughs softly at him, face alight with mirth. 

 

“Sleep well?” He asks teasingly.

 

“You could say that,” Shiro replies, frowning. “I was drugged.”

 

Lance blinks. “Well,” he starts, deliberating his words, “I can’t say I blame them. You really do need more sleep.”

 

Shiro pauses, brows furrowed. “I’d rather not be drugged by a criminal,” He says finally. Matt agrees from the other side of the couch.

 

“A crimin- oh, you mean Blue,” Lance breathes a sigh of relief. “God, I thought you meant like a murderer or something.”

 

“You forgot about the heist?” Matt asks curiously. “That’s unlike you. You’re usually all about them.”

 

Lance shrugs. “I was preoccupied with this. I wasn’t going to bug you about the heist when I was asked to cheer you up.”

 

Shiro huffs a laugh. “Thanks, Lance.”

 

Lance grins, standing up. “Right, well I’m gonna go help Hunk make the snacks. Want anything?” The detectives shake their heads. “Okay. I’ll be back!” 

 

“Speaking of preoccupation,” Matt starts, leaning forward. “Dad’s taking us on that trip with the force tomorrow, isn’t he?”

 

“Oh! I forgot about that!” Shiro startles. “We don’t need anything specific, right?”

 

“No. Dad says all the important stuff is provided.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

-

 

The door closes resolutely behind them, smiles disappearing behind the door.

 

Pidge stands there for a moment more, hand still frozen in a wave, before she turns and heads back to the living room. Lance and Hunk look up at her, backs straight.

 

“Shall we?” Lance asks, motioning to his cell phone. 

 

Pidge nods. “Yeah. Let’s head go to the lab today, I wanna work on the lenses again.”

 

“Gonna work on the color again?” Asks Hunk. Pidge nods again.

 

“It’s not nearly natural enough, and it’s hard to see the data when the color’s too bright anyway,” She shrugs. “I might add some more features while we’re at it.”

 

Lance smiles. “Cool. Let’s go then,” He picks up his phone and stands. “We don’t have all day.”

 

“Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shrugs


	3. Color Mixing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peek into the base of operations and a heist from the eyes of the thief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise bitch
> 
> okay so we're getting into the shit i actually had written out before these intro chapters so if there's any sort of inconsistency its bc im too lazy to check back and i don't have a beta to do it for me so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> anyway take some team interactions and a wild Keith

Pidge is hunched over the work table, gloved hands making miniscule movements as she stares into a microscope. No one dares interrupt her, though Hunk does drop off a tool once and a while. Hunk himself is tinkering with the wings hidden in Lance’s usual Heist blazer, making sure it doesn’t affect the protection granted by the kevlar in the fabric. Lance is up in the rafters of the underground warehouse, practicing his acrobatics and card tricks. Eventually, Pidge looks up, setting down her tools and carefully pulling the lenses away from the microscope.

 

“Honey,” She calls, setting them onto the table and turning on the computer at her side. “Take a look.”

 

Hunk sets down the blazer, the metal framework falling back into place with a solid _click._ His footsteps are soft against the cement flooring,  crossing over onto tile with relative silence. He leans over her shoulder to take a look. “Nice,” He says, nodding decisively. “Looks much more natural now.”

 

Pidge grins. “Right? I finally figured out the right mix for the perfect blue, and I managed to adjust the screen enough to get more of the data without crowding the vision. We’ll have to test it, of course, but Neptune has almost all of the museums in the state memorized like the back of his hand. Even if it does, he could run it blind.”

 

“Thanks, Dove!” Lance exclaims, hooking his knees around the beam and swinging downwards. She jumps, turning around and glaring. He grins, poking her in the nose. “I’m glad you have so much faith in me.”

 

“Neptune…” Hunk starts warningly. Lance sighs, hooping down with a flip.

 

“Fine,” He grumbles, crossing his arms. “So are we preparing for the  next run, or…”

 

Hunk nods. “I’ve adjusted the wings, so it should be a much smoother flight next time,” He says,continuing when Lance nods. “I’m going to work on your gun a little more, but the list is where it always is.”

 

Lance nods. “Dove, pack up the lenses and help Honey, will you? I don’t want anyone dying during a run, my hand or otherwise.”

 

Pidge nods. “On it.”

 

-

 

He’s in the workshop in his own house, now- alone, because despite being dear friends and allies, he will not drag the other two down with him if he’s ever caught. They’ve been up there before, of course- someone has to patch him up if things go awry, but pre-heist planning has always been his job alone. Not even Hunk was allowed into the workshop the day before the heist. Plausible deniability- they didn’t ever know know exactly what he was planning, and could truthfully claim so in court if it ever came down to that.

 

Despite this, his friends insist on helping him somehow- whether acting as his eyes on the inside or helping him with his more technologically advanced equipment, even helping him search for targets. It makes them accomplices, but they’re too good to be caught, and Lance is too good of a liar to rat them out.

 

With a low sigh, he shakes the thoughts from his head and focuses on the blueprints in front of him.

 

The hotel is a familiar one, one he’s navigated through countless times both as a thief and as a civilian, and the floorplan isn’t new to him. Still, he makes a point of etching it into his brain, memorizing every turn and hall. Every possible escape path draws itself into the model in his head, and he build plans around every one, preparing himself mentally for every trick the secondary force may try to pull.

 

The gala is not of import. They aren’t showing off the gem- it belongs to a temporary worker that carries it around like a charm. It will be easy to swipe it off him. The gala is his in, but no one will suspect him of not belonging. He’s too good for that.

 

It’s a small heist- hardly more than a rumor amongst the police. HIs heist notice, usually bold and headline worthy, is buried amongst pages of irrelevant entertainment news, so much so that none of the tabloids or news stations really take note of it. He knows that it’ll be easy, but he also knows that underestimating his opponents could very well be the end of him, so he prepares plans and backup plans, and backup plans for backup plans and so on.

 

This heist is for the Empire, not the Force. It’s a small gem, a small audience, a small force. Low publicity heists always drag the Empire’s men out of the shadows, and he will be there to take them out.

 

-

 

Lance steps out onto the empty rooftop, walking all the way up to the ledge and sitting idly upon the thick cement wall. The city sparkles from beneath him, alive with flickering golden lights.

 

“This is boring without my detectives,” he breathes, holding the gemstone up to the moonlight. Light filters through the crystal, showering him in a soft light. He sighs, tucking it into a pocket inside his blazer.

 

The door slams open, and he stands, smiling widely at the newcomer. A man, dressed in some sort of ~~terrible attempt at~~ inverted biker scheme stands before him, panting heavily.

 

“You’re that thief, aren’t you?” Says the man, bending a little at the knees and placing his hands over them. He pants out a complaint Lance doesn’t bother listening to.

 

“ _That thief?_ How rude,” Lance scoffs, raising a brow. “I am more than a simple thief, you know.”

 

“Oh? Great,” says the man sarcastically, finally seeming to catch his breath. “Absolutely wonderful.” He sighs deeply. “Look, just give it back and I won’t turn you in. That’s my brother’s.” The secondary force is gone by now, and the Empire won’t risk a witness so connected to the police when they try to take him out.

 

Lance pauses, stalling for time. “Hm,” he hums, flicking his wrist so that the gem is back in his gloved hands. “Okay, sure.” he says, tossing it into the man’s hands.

 

“Wait, seriously?” The man asks, blinking up at him. “Why-”

 

“It’s not what I was looking for anyway,” Lance continues as if the man hadn’t spoken. From the corner of his eye, he can see something small and round catch the light from one of the upper floor windows of the apartment building across the street. “Thanks for letting me borrow it, Keith.”

 

“How do you know my name?” Asks the man, confused. Lance stands and turns back to the city. “Wait-”

 

But it’s too late. Lance steps off the side of the building. Keith runs to the ledge, looking down to see-

 

With a puff of pale blue smoke and glitter, Lance is gone, vanishing into the night without a trace.

 

-

 

“Blue!” Snarls a voice, a rumbling growl from the shadows.

 

The thief grins. “Sendak,” voice soft, deceivingly sweet. “It’s good to see you again.”

 

“Hand over the gem,” Sendak growls, reaching for his gun.

 

Blue is faster, lifting his own and shooting the gun from his hand, the bullet grazing the metal of his prosthetic and freezing it instantly. “I don’t have it,” hums the thief, adjusting silk gloves. “It’s not it anyway.”

 

Sendak bares his teeth, clawing at his paralyzed arm anxiously. “We’ll be the judge of that-” He starts, but Blue ignores him and prepares to jump out the window.

 

-

 

“Lance,” Pidge groans, holding up the torn white fabric of his heist blazer. “Would it kill you to at least try not to rip this? This is expensive, you know!”

 

“Relax, Pidge! It’s fine, I promise,” He says, waving her off from his spot on the couch. He crosses his ankles and rests them on the armrest across from him, a picture of relaxation. “Besides, It wasn’t even my fault this time! It was one of the snipers!”

 

Pidge sighs. “Did you at least remember your vest?”

 

“Yes, actually!” Lance says happily, sitting up a little. “It’s cool that you were able to make it look like a normal vest! No one suspected a thing!”

 

Pidge sighs again. “Well, as long as you’re safe…”

 

“Of course, of course! When am I not safe at my heists?” Pidge sends him a sharp look, and Lance sits up fully, pouting. “I’ll have you know that all of my heists are meticulously planned, thank you very much!”

 

Pidge shakes her head and places the torn blazer on the table. “Whatever. We have school tomorrow, so finish up here and go to sleep. I’m going home.” She stands, pressing her hands against the hidden doorway. The woodwork around the edges creaks softly. “Good night.”

 

“Night! Love you!”

 

Pidge sighs and shuts the door behind her.

 

Lance glances up at the picture on the wall, trying to match the woman’s smile with his own. _“Meri,”_ he whispers, pressing his hands to his chest in silent prayer. _“I swear, I will finish what you started. I will end this, once and for all.”_

  
He stands and presses against the door, head bowed. _“I’ll find it, and bring this all to an end.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so let's talk abt codenames. 
> 
> Hunk is the yellow paladin. I wasn't gonna call him gold, bc that sounds dumb and isn't all that natural to say when youre referring to a person. i wan gonna call him lovely, but honey works better with the yellow theme so yeah
> 
> pidge is dove bc pidgeon = bird = dove?? I couldn't use Pidge bc a) lance uses it as a nickname outside heists and b) plot reasons yo.
> 
> Lance has like,, 6 codenames, but mostly he's Blue. Neptune is used in the lab just in case it's bugged, to ensure their safety and all. It's not a good idea to build all of your heist material in a place that they can connect a name to a face, even if that face is shrouded by recognition scrambling fabric or the name is fake.
> 
> (((if anyone is interested in beta-ing or whatever- for any of my fics- you can talk to me @ totallyknowwhatimtalkingabout.tumblr.com)))


	4. Droplets of Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of the Detectives. A conversation on family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short, not that great chapter. Fantastic.

The door slams open, creating a draft that pulls autumn reddened leaves into the room. Lance catches one out of the air absentmindedly, more out of reflex than anything else. 

 

“We’re back!” Says a voice, and Pidge stiffens slightly in front of him, pulling out her phone to fire off a few texts, probably to Hunk. Lance grins and turns around.

 

“Matt! Shiro! Welcome back!” He cries, waving wildly. “How was your trip?”

 

Shiro sighs, putting his bag down on the table and sitting down on the bench. “We ran into another case on the way back,” He says, shaking his head. “Honestly, why is it that everytime I go out, someone gets killed?”

 

“Oh, calm down, Shiro,” Matt says, patting his back and sitting down next to him. “I’m sure it’s all just a coincidence. Besides, solving cases is fun!”

 

Lance smiles. Behind him, the early morning sun shines through the window and makes the trees behind him light up the edges of his frame, familiar, somehow.  _ If you substitute the sun with floodlights, or spotlights, you can almost see the outline of- _

 

“Speaking of cases,” Matt says, smirking slightly, “Have there been any heists lately? There’s no way Blue would lay low for a whole month.”

 

Pidge sighs. “Officially?” She shoots a look at Lance, who grins sheepishly. “No. I heard somewhere that she went after something unpublicized, but no one’s confirmed it, so…”

 

Shiro looks up at that. “I think Keith told me something about that…” He shrugs. “Something about the moonstone my grandmother gave me?”

 

Lance scratches the back of his neck again nervously.

 

“Oh! Do you think she left behind fingerprints?” Matt asks. “Maybe dad can run them through the system!”

 

“No way!” Lance says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Blue’s way too careful for that! Besides, how can we even be sure that it was Blue and not some imposter? Blue usually publicizes all of his heists!”

 

Matt rolls his eyes fondly. “I know you’re a Blue fan, Lance, but she’s an internationally wanted thief! Dad’s been chasing her for over 20 years!” 

 

Pidge nods at that. “Yeah, Lance,” she says sharply, looking pointedly at his hands. He quickly lowers them, shoving them into his pockets. “ _ She’s _ internationally wanted. Once Dad catches her…” She trails off, smirking.

 

Lance laughs awkwardly. “She’s a good magician! What can I say?” 

 

Shiro sighs. “As much as I hate to admit it, I agree. She’s got a lot of tricks up her sleeve,” He says, leaning back a little. “That’s why your dad’s got us on the scene all the time.”

 

Matt grins. “Yeah! And, now that Lance is on our side,” He throws an arm around Lance’s shoulders, “We can figure out ways to stop the tricks before they come!”

 

Pidge snorts. “Yeah,” She says, voice shaking with laughter. “I’m sure he’ll do great.”

 

“Hey! I take offense to that!”

 

Still snickering, Pidge turns and runs down the path. 

 

“Come back!”

 

-

 

The door to his apartment opens, a soft clamor of people audible through the crack in the door. 

 

“Hey guys!” Lance greets from the kitchen, head half buried in the fridge. “Make yourselves at home!”

 

A chorus of agreements chimes, and he smiles to himself. He can hear Pidge flopping down onto the living room couch, grunting when Hunk lifts her legs to take a seat beside her. Matt laughs as he sits on the recliner, probably ruffling Pidges hair as he goes, judging by the irritated squeak. 

 

There’s a knock on the half closed sliding door of the kitchen, and he turns around, four cans balanced precariously on top of each other in one hand and a closed bag of chocolates clenched between his teeth. “Hm?” He blinks, taking the bag out of his mouth with his free hand. “Shiro?  What’s up, bud?”

 

Shiro smiles sheepishly, opening the door the rest of the way to reveal another person standing behind him. “I brought my little brother with me,” he says, stepping to the side. “I hope you don’t mind.  He just moved into the area recently, so I thought it would be good to make friends?”

 

“Ah, so this is the elusive Keith, huh?” He takes a moment to look over the man. “The more the merrier, my dude,” he says, waving a hand. “It's all good.”

 

“Thanks, Lance.” Shiro says, relaxing. He turns down the hall to join the others. Keith turns to look at him. 

 

Recognition flashes in his eyes, narrowing. “You're that thief, aren't you?” He asks suspiciously. “Blue or something.”

 

“What?” Lance jerks in surprise.  _ I'm more than a simple thief!  _ “Dude, Blue’s been around for like, 20 years. That's not possible.”

 

“You didn't deny it, though,” says Keith. Lance scoffs in irritation. 

 

“I’m not Blue!” He says, putting the bag on the counter and snapping his fingers. The cans in his hands disappear and delighted gasps sound from the other room. He sighs. “Whatever. Just… grab yourself something to eat. I’m not dealing with this.”

 

He picks up the bag again and turns down the hallway, wiping away all traces if irritation and putting on a wide smile. He ignores the low “This isn't over!” from behind him. 

 

“Hunk, my main man, will you do the honors?” he says, tossing the bag through the air. Hunk catches it clumsily and nods. “Okay! Three...Two… One!”

 

Confetti flies through the air, and the bag disappears, leaving a neat platter of chocolate in it's wake. They're organized by size and shape in a spiral, creating a dizzying pattern. 

 

Matt claps enthusiastically, ignoring Pidge, who looks on with a raised brow. “Wow!”

 

“Thank you, Thank you,” He says, puffing out his chest and bowing exaggeratedly. He plucks the tray from Hunk’s hands, and holds it out, grinning. “Chocolate?”

 

Hunk rolls his eyes. “Thanks,” He says, laughing a little and taking a striped one. The corner of a plastic bag pokes out from the pillow behind him, and he shifts to cover it.

 

Lance goes around with the tray, and Keith plops down on the couch next to Shiro, who ruffles his hair and smiles. He makes a displeased noise and crosses his arms.

 

“Who’s this?” Asks Hunk pleasantly. Lance puts the platter down and sits on the back of the couch behind him, draping his arms across his shoulders with a sigh. 

 

“This is my little brother, Keith,” Shiro says. “He just moved in with me recently, so I thought I’d bring him here to meet you guys.”

 

“Huh. Never thought you were a siblings guy,” Says Pidge, picking up her can. She takes a sip and shrugs. “Weird.”

 

“Yeah, well,” He shrugs, but Keith cuts him off.

 

“I’m adopted.” He says, eyes narrowed.

 

“Huh.” Pidge blinks, leaning back into the cushions of the couch.

 

The room goes quiet for a long moment. “So why did you move in with Shiro?”

 

Shiro looks away. “Ah-”

 

“Our mother died.”

 

“Oh.”

 

-

 

_ He slams his fists against the warehouse doors desperately. “MOM?” _

 

_ A gunshot goes off. One of the police officers pulls him away from the doors while another cuts through the chains. Shiro pushes the door open, brows furrowed. _

 

_ He slips out of the officer’s arms and pushes through to the front to see- _

 

_ A woman, sprawled across the floor. There’s a flash of blue light, blinding, and then he’s running forward toward the woman.  _

 

_ He drops to his knees at her side, looking, seeing- _

-

 

Lance grips the back of Hunk’s shirt tightly, burying his face into his side.

 

Hunk pats his arm and sighs. “Yeah, we know how that is.”

 

Keith blinks, shocked. “Huh?”

 

Lance stays silent. Hunk shakes his head and leans forward for his drink. “Lance’s mom- Meri, the famous magician, remember her?- She was… She died a few years ago.”

 

“Oh yeah, I remember that,” Matt says, brows furrowed. “What a horrible way to die. I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

Lance looks up and smiles softly. “It was a while back. Luckily, my siblings and I were old enough to take care of ourselves by then.”

 

“That’s...good?”

 

He nods. “Yeah. We get together over the weekends for dinner over at Gwen’s.”

 

Pidge lets out a low whistle. “That’s an hour drive away, isn’t it?”

 

“On a good day. Hunk and I usually head out around 5 sunday morning to beat the traffic.”

 

“Oh, that’s why you can’t help out on Sunday Heists!” Matt exclaims, surprised. Keith raises a brow at the statement.

 

Lance laughs again. “Yeah. It’s a shame, though,” He says, forcing back a smug smile. “I’ve heard that Blue brings out the best tricks then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry y'all back story is a'coming.


	5. Burning Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two high stake heists.   
> The First of Five found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so,,,,,  
> i have more of this  
> like,,,,, 50 pgs????  
> whoops holy shit  
> i promise im working on the other one too but like,,,,  
> I love Kaitou KID y'all  
> anyway take it

****

_ “Ladies and Gentlemen!” _

 

-

 

The crowd cheers as flowers fall from the sky, white petals cascading gracefully through the air. A sparkling sapphire is thrust triumphantly into the air. 

 

Smoke.

 

The thief is gone.

 

-

 

The stairway is loud with the sound of pounding footsteps, police standard boots slamming down against cement steps in rapid succession. Finally, they reach the top, moonlight filtering in through the small window in the door. 

 

Shiro slams it open, one hand on his gun holster. Matt and his father follow in suit, feeling cool metal under adrenaline buzzed fingers. 

 

The rooftop is alight with a bright blue light, the only shadow coming from the thief on the ledge. 

 

“Stop right there, Blue!” Says the older Holt, raising his gun so that it points at the thief’s feet. “This is the end!”

 

Blue turns around, smiling easily. “My, what eager detectives!” Croons the thief, twirling the sapphire between gloved fingers. It disappears in a puff of blue smoke, and the light disappears. “I applaud you for finding me.”

 

Matt smirks. “You weren't exactly subtle about your intentions,” he says smugly, arms crossed against his chest. “Now give back the gem and come quietly.”

 

“I’m afraid that this is one gem I simply cannot return,” Blue replies, turning away again. 

 

The older Holt begins to move his gun, hands hesitating over the safety lock. The thief looks up at something and whips around urgently.

 

_ “Get down!” _ Shouts Blue, poker face shattering. Immediately, the trio drops, more on instinct then decision. “Dove, where-” Blue turns of the side to catch something on an earpiece.

 

_ Bang! _

 

Lurching forward, the elusive thief raises shaking fingers to a bleeding shoulder. Red seeps into pure white.“Shit… Dove, pull back. Honey, evacuate the building. The Empire’s already seen me.” 

 

Shiro moves to stand, but Blue shakes his head. “Stay down,” snaps the thief, eyes narrowing. “I don't want anyone getting hurt at my heists.”

 

Another gunshot goes off, and Blue stumbles forward again, hissing in pain. “Jeez, they really are going all out today. One more shot and it might actually make it through the vest!” A pause. Gloved fingers trace an invisible earpiece. “I’m not discrediting your work, Dove, but I really don’t think the fabric is meant to take more that 3 bullets- of course I know how to deal with snipers! This isn’t the first time- Honey, not you too, I thought you were on my side- I know. I’ll be careful…”

 

A gun materializes in gloved hands, silver glinting in the moonlight. “I’ll definitely protect them.” 

 

Light fires from the barrel of the gun, bright blue in color. Distantly, there is an alarmed shout, and then a loud clicking noise. Silence reigns.

 

Matt and Shiro slowly pull themselves from the ground, helping Commander Holt stand. 

 

“Dove, put up the barrier!” Blue shouts suddenly. “This place is about to blow!”

 

“What?”

 

“Yes- Honey, is the building empty?” Blue walks up to them, strides wide and determined. “Good. I’ll take care of these guys, so pull back and get out as quickly as you can.”

 

“What are you doing? I-” Matt stops short when silk gloves catch his wrist, and then suddenly he’s falling, rapidly approaching the ground. Just as it grows close, there is a sharp tug at his shoulders and he stops, feet hovering inches above the cement. With another tug, he lands gracelessly on the floor with a soft thud. “...Ow?”

 

A man stands before him, dressed in the police uniform, but Matt doesn’t recognize him. He blinks rapidly.

 

The man clears his throat. “Sir,” He says, holding out a hand. “There isn’t much time. We need to go.”

 

Shiro and his father appear at his side, similarly to himself. He hesitates, staring into the man’s dark brown eyes in confusion. “What’s going on?” He asks, and he feels impossibly small.

 

The man shakes his head. “A selfless idiot is saving our lives. Let’s move.”

 

Katie is waiting for them at the gate, a blanket draped over her shoulders. She nods at the officer, and he glances back at the group for a second more and then disappears into the crowd. 

 

“Are you guys okay? We heard gunshots.” She asks, concern written across her face. 

 

“Do you know what’s going on?” Asks Samuel, putting a hand on her shoulder. She glances up at the roof, brows furrowed. 

 

“Bombs, I think,” she says, tucking stray hair behind her ear. “I heard someone call the in the bomb squad.”

 

A shadow appears over their heads, blocking out the moonlight, and her eyes widen almost comically. Her hand freezes over her ear. 

 

“Katie?” Asks their dad, but she shakes her head and points up at the sky. A loud boom sounds, and there's a wave of heat and orange light.

 

He looks up and sees-

 

Blue, falling from the sky, glowing in the moonlight with a soft, almost ethereal light. Fire touches at the ends of knees and fingertips, burning the edges of torn white fabric, and with a resounding clap, the thief vanishes into midair.

 

“Whoa...” Shiro breathes.

 

“Yeah…”

 

-

 

“Ow!” Lance squeeks, pulling his arm away and rubbing gingerly at the burns. “I’m sorry, okay?  At least I got them out!”

 

“You almost died, Lance,” Pidge snaps, taking his arm back with a scowl. “Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

 

Hunk makes a noise of assent. “Honestly. What would Meri say if she were here?”

 

“That I did a great job?”

 

“Lance…”

 

“I get it, okay? I messed up. I’m sorry.” He sighs. “I won’t do it again.”

 

“Thank you,” Says Hunk, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We just want you to be safe, Lance. We won’t stop you from doing this,” a pause, gaze flickering across the room, “But please, be careful. If you get hurt, there’ll be no one to continue the legacy.”

 

“Yeah,” Pidge nods, tying off his bandages. “We’re science people, not magic people. We can’t wear the mask like you can.”

 

“Yeah yeah,” Lance sighs, standing up. “Thanks, guys.”

 

“Anytime, Lance,” Pidge says, a soft smile on her face. “Stay safe.” 

 

“Goodnight, Lance,” Says Hunk, opening the door. “Try not to aggravate your wounds. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Goodnight.”

 

The door clicks shut behind them, leaving Lance alone in the dimly lit room. He looks up at the picture on the wall. 

 

_ “What would you have done, Meri?” _ He breathes. 

 

No one answers. 

 

-

 

“Lance! What happened to your hands?” Asks Matt, staring at the bandages around his fingers. “Are you okay?”

 

Lance laughs awkwardly, ignoring the sharp glances from Pidge and Keith. “Ah, I was practicing a magic trick with Gwen in the kitchen,” He pauses, waving his fingers a bit. “And Leo sort of ran in and spilled the soup all over me? I’ve got burns everywhere right now. But I mean, Gwen and Leo are okay, so it was worth catching the pot before anything else could happen.”

 

“That sucks. Are you sure you’re okay? It looks painful.” Matt says worriedly.

 

“I’m fine. It’s not that bad.” He says, smiling. “I should be fine in a few days.”

 

“If you say so.”

 

“In the meantime…” Lance grins, clapping his hands together. Smoke fills the room and disappears in a second, leaving the room full of brightly colored flowers. “There. Much better, Don’t you think?”

 

“Lance...” Pidge growls, white petals falling from above her. He turns to look at her, squeaking when she turns a sharp glare at him. “If you don’t clean this up in the next three seconds, I will burn you to the ground.”

 

He claps his hands again, and suddenly the area around her is clear. “Jeez, Pidge,” He laughs nervously, “No need to take it so seriously. It was just rose petals! I even took the time to clear out the pollen in all these, just for you.”

 

Pidge huffs. “Whatever. I’m working, and I don’t like finding petals hidden in my workbooks.”

 

Lance sighs and gives an exaggerated shrug. “At least  _ someone _ appreciates my magic,” He says, turning to smile at Matt. 

 

“Stop flirting with my brother and get to work, Lance,” She snaps. Matt turns to her and sticks his tongue out. She returns the gesture. “You too, Matt. With your luck, you won’t have time to do it when we get home.”

 

“I’m lost,” Keith says, staring at the bright yellow lilies on his desk. He flicks at a petal absently. “Is this a normal thing for you guys?”

 

“With Lance around? Yes.”

 

“I just want to bring a little brightness into your lives!” Lance huffs, pulling a bouquet out of his bag and handing it to Matt. Neither of them blink when it turns into a notebook in a puff of pastel smoke. “You spend too much time in the dark. A little magic is good for the soul!”

 

“Isn’t there enough magic with your heists?” Asks Keith, still staring down his flowers. Pidge turns to look at him, eyes narrowed.

 

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not Blue!” Lance replies without missing a beat. “Besides, Blue’s a woman, remember?”

 

“Yeah, and you’re a detective,” Keith scoffs. “Prove it.”

 

Lance ignores Pidge’s sharp look and claps his hands. The lily jolts. “Fine! I will.”

 

Keith raises a brow and pokes at the flower again. It sprays water at his face. “Hey!”

 

-

 

“Lance, this is really risky,” Hunks says worriedly. “How do you plan on being in two places at once?”

 

Lance simply shrugs. “Magic.”

 

“Lance, this is serious!” Hunk pleads, flattening the fabric of Lance’s vest nervously.“We were able to get this far because they assumed Blue was a middle-aged woman, but if they think it’s actually you…”

 

“You worry too much, Hunk,” Lance smiles, reaching over his shoulder to touch his fingertips. “I’ve got this!”

 

The door opens and shuts, an irritated Pidge standing in front of the doorway. “If you plan on using any of our bigger inventions, I swear-”

 

“No, no,” Lance scoffs, offended. “This one is gonna be pure  _ magic. _ ”

 

-

 

Keith takes one look at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion, and locks a pair of handcuffs onto their wrists.

 

“Whoa,” Lance gasps, grinning suggestively, “Ask a guy out to dinner first!”

 

Keith scowls. “You wish,” He snaps, turning his head toward the display case. “Don’t even try to escape, it’ll electrocute you if you pick the lock.”

 

“Ouch,” Lance pouts, pretending to be worried. “Don’t worry, I’m a magician, not an escape artist.”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

He snaps his fingers with his free hand, and the lights go out so that the spotlight on the display case is the only light.

 

“ _ Ladies and Gentlemen!” _ Says a voice, loud and clear in the room. Smoke explodes outward from the case, shimmering slightly under the spotlight. When it fades, Blue is standing on the pedestal, bent over in a deep bow _. “It is my great pleasure to have you with me tonight.”  _ The crowd cheers loudly.

 

Keith turns to Lance with wide eyes, and Lance simply shrugs and smiles, leaning in closer to prove he hadn't moved at all. The thief on the pedestal steps down with a refined grace, grinning.  _ “I am most honored to have such a large audience. “ _

 

“That’s her! Go!” Police rush forward, but the thief simply steps to the side and lets them fall into a pile.

 

_ “Now, For my first trick,” _ Blue rumbles, tapping gloved fingers against the glass box.  _ “I shall reach into this box and steal the jewel.” _

 

“That’s hardly a trick!” Someone shouts from the crowd. 

 

_ “Oh? But I find it to be a rather fine trick, if I do say so myself,” _ replies Blue, pouting slightly. Gloved fingers faze through the glass with ease, curling over the stone. The thief pulls back, thrusting the gem into the air for all to see.  _ “You’re probably right, though. I mean, how simple was that? You all came here for a real show, not to watch me pull a stone from a box!” _

 

Cheers erupt from the audience, drowning out whatever Keith is trying to say. Lance pulls at the cuffs so he can clap along with the crowd. 

 

_ “Hm…” _ Blue hums inquisitively, the gem disappearing into the air.  _ “What should I do first? Maybe teleportation? After all, any great magician can pull that off. That might be too easy though. Hardly a worth show.” _

 

“Teleport, Teleport!” People chant happily. Blue grins.

 

_ “If you insist,” _ Blue replies, clapping once. There’s a puff of brightly colored smoke, and then Blue is gone.  _ “I really think the trick is a little lackluster, though,” _ continues the thief, a disembodied voice in the dark of night.  _ “But if it makes you happy, I suppose it will have to do.” _   
  


Keith turns another sharp glare at Lance. Lance shrugs, still clapping along with the audience. 

 

_ “Now, how shall we continue?” _ Drawls Blue, and the spotlights shoot upwards to catch a view of the thief walking idly across the rafters with a distinctly feminine swing of hips. More police rush in, footsteps pounding.  _ “Ah, that’s my cue to leave. I do so thank you for being such a lovely audience tonight.”  _ And with one last resounding clap, Blue hops down and disappears into the crowd.

 

Slowly but surely, the crowd dies down and filters out, police running checks on each person as they leave. Eventually, all that’s left are the Holts, Shiro, Keith, and Lance. 

 

“I still don’t trust you,” Says Keith, unlocking the cuffs with a scowl.

 

“Lance! You made it!” Matt exclaims, grinning. “Did you figure out how she did it?” 

 

Lance shrugs. “The teleport thing, yes- She just set up a smoke and mirrors illusion up in the rafters and escaped into the crowd, but I don’t know how she stole the gem.” He walks up to the pedestal, tapping the glass with his fingernail. “This is solid. What kind of trick did she use?” 

 

Shiro walks over and unlocks the case, lifting the lid so they can make sure the gem is actually gone. The velvet pillow sits, devoid of anything but a pristine white paper (a note from Blue, no doubt), and he picks it up dejectedly. “Damn. That really was a weird trick.”

 

Lance holds his hands out for the pillow, and Shiro hands it to him. “Jeez...I don’t get this one,” He says, patting down the pillow. The gem slips out of a hidden compartment and disappears into his sleeve. “How exciting!”

 

“That’s one word for it,” Shiro sighs. He takes the pillow back. “I think it’s more troublesome than exciting.”

 

Lance shrugs, absentmindedly pulling a flower from thin air. “As long as she returns to gem in the end, it’s no harm done, right?”

 

“Yes, but after the last heist, we can’t be sure she’ll return everything anymore,” Says Matt. He sighs almost sadly. “The higher ups are calling for more drastic measures.”

 

Keith turns to glare at Lance, but Lance simply smiles tightly and ignores him. “Why do you think she kept that one, though? It wasn’t all that high profile, compared to the other gems she’s stolen,” He asks, tapping his chin. “That’s the real mystery. If I were her, I would keep all the high profile ones. You’d make more money that way.”

 

Shiro shrugs. “I don’t think she’s in it for profit,” He says, and Lance’s eyes brighten a little. “But whatever she’s in it for, it’s dangerous. The last heist was…”

 

“I don’t think that was her fault, though,” Matt pipes in thoughtfully. “She wouldn’t have helped us escape otherwise. And aside from that, she was shot trying to save us. I really don’t think she wants  _ anyone _ to get hurt, especially not us.”

 

Lance’s grin grows even wider. “Well, if you detectives think so,” He says, multiplying the flower in his hands and giving one to each of them, “It must be true.”

 

-

 

By the time he gets home, he’s exhausted. His throat aches from throwing his voice across such a large area, and his skin still feels tight from the burns of the last heist. He opens the door to the hidden room and collapses onto the couch with a groan. 

 

“Okay, that was way more tiring than I thought it would be,” He whines, draping his arm across his forehead. “Meri would be disappointed in me. I probably should have practiced that more before trying to pull it off.”

 

The door slams open, and Pidge storms in, Hunk hot on her heels. “Lance, holy fuck,” she pants, slamming a heavy hand on the ornamental wood lining of the couch. Lance jolts a little in surprise. “How the hell did you pull that off? You were right by Keith’s side the entire time.”

 

Lance just laughs tiredly and waves it away. “Can’t we talk about this tomorrow? It’s like, 2 in the morning, and my throat hurts from throwing my voice so far.”

 

“Did you steal my nanobots?” She asks suspiciously. “I told you not to use any of my inventions for your petty rivalry.”

 

“No! Wait, you have nanobots? Since when?” He shoots up, immediately regretting it when his burnt back tightens in protest. “Ow…”

 

Hunk opens up the medicine cabinet by the door and hands him a cough drop and an ibuprofen. He turns toward the door again. “I’m gonna go get a glass of water, but I wanna hear about the trick too, so don’t say how you did it yet.”

 

“Thanks, Hunk,” Lance says, eyes shining. “You’re the best.”

 

When Hunk returns, he sets the glass on the table beside them and stares intently at Lance, brows raised. Pidge mirrors the motion, draping herself fully along the back of the couch like some sort of large cat. Lance tilts his head back with a long sigh, eyes heavy lidded with an exhaustion that shows through his entire body. 

 

“Do we really have to do this now?” He asks tiredly, already knowing the answer. 

 

Hunk leans against the armrest opposite of the famed thief's head and sighs slightly. “It was an amazing trick, Lance,” he says softly. “We’re interested in how you did it without our help. It looked like it took a lot of work.”

 

The moonlight filters in through the high windows, bathing them in a soft white light. Lance fiddles with the bright gem absently, catching it over and over again in a rolling motion as it slips from his gloved fingers. 

 

“Not  _ entirely _ without your help,” Lance says, shrugging half heartedly. “I used the benefit of that belief spell you cast when we were kids to really pull it off. It probably wouldn't have worked otherwise.”

 

Hunk nods and motions for him to continue.

 

“From there is was a lot of smoke and mirrors, lots of illusion work” Lance continues. The gem catches the light as it turns over in his hands, sending rays of color to bounce off the walls of the darkened room. “People see what they believe is there, so all I really had to do was plant the idea that the illusion was real, and people believed it wholeheartedly.”

 

“And the gem?” Asks Pidge,leaning her chin on her crossed arms. “How’d you take it without anyone noticing? I know it was there before the heist- Keith made me triple check it with him after the curator left, which was a little weird, by the way. Something about avoiding ‘that damned thief’ after the last time they met, mumbling about hair dye and ruffles or something.”

 

“You're gonna hate this one,” he says, suppressing a snicker. “I stole it after the heist happened.”

 

“How? You we're surrounded by police, and there's no way Keith took his eyes off you.”

 

"Lots of preparation beforehand," Lance laughs. "I had to modify the pillow to catch the gem when the first illusion hit, and make sure Keith didn't think to check the pillow. It had to be good enough to trick you, too, because if Keith suspected you of working with me, he'd hate you."

 

She blinks, thinking back for a moment. “Damn, I should've known.”

 

Lance laughs. “Yeah. But the trick wasn’t exactly my best- I definitely needed to practice it more, but what’s done is done.”

 

-

 

He’s alone, lying on his bed and staring up at his ceiling blankly. The night’s silence settles in, darkness creeping up on him, instilling a sudden loneliness in his very bones. 

 

By now, the emerald he stole is already making it back to the police- Pidge took it hours ago, after interrogating him about his trick a little more. By morning, the thing will be long gone, and any doubts about Blue straying from her normal pattern will be washed away.

 

He sighs, reaching a hand into the air above his head and grasping at nothing. “When will this end?” He whispers into the night. “When can we finally rest?”

 

But the night is silent.  He slams his hand back down into the bed, frustrated. “Why did you drag us into this? We were just kids!” He breathes angrily. “We shouldn’t be fighting for our lives.”

 

Still, the night does not respond, not even a rush of wind. He closes his eyes, tears trickling down his cheeks. “Damn it, Meri!”

 

He can’t bring himself to hate her, even now. Not when he knows what she died to protect, not when she risked her life countless times just to keep her family safe. Not when her title passed on to him because he stole it before the others could find out.

 

Not when he knows he’ll be following the same path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	6. Rivulets of Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction into why Keith is so determined to catch Blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE BITCH
> 
> i have arrived with more content  
> i'll probably post like,,, two or three more chapters today so that's fun
> 
> what do you mean i should space out my content for update consistency???? I've never met this "update consistency" you speak of,,,besides im sure shes too good for me anyway,,,

_ “Come on, Keith,” She says, smiling softly, running her fingers through his hair. “You’ve been talking about this magic show for weeks? I thought you loved Meri!” _

  


_ Keith shakes his head rapidly. “I don’t wanna!” _

  


_ “Ok,” She sighs, crouching down to meet his eyes. “Can you at least tell me why?” _

  


_ He crosses his arms and huffs. “I don’t want to lose you.” _

  


_ She stops, freezing in place. “Oh, Keith,” She breathes, cupping his cheek in her hand. “I’m sorry. It might be too late for that.” _

  


_ He blinks, looking up at her in shock. “Wha-” _

  


_ She smiles softly, standing and stretching her arms. “Tell him I’m sorry, will you? I never meant for this to happen.” _

  


_ “Mom?”  _

  


_ “Goodbye, Keith,” She says, and then she’s gone in a shimmer of gold, swept away with the wind. _

  


-

  


He gasps awake, breathing heavily. His heart races in his chest, his head pulsing with a headache. 

  


At his side, the phone buzzes softly, snapping him out of his stupor. 

  


He sighs, glancing at the screen. 

  


**_11:57 p.m._ **

  


**_Katie Holt:_ ** _ hey _

  


_ wanna get coffee _

  


_ ill pay _

  


-

  


Keith walks into the coffee shop with a half-hearted scowl, arms crossed over his chest. “Why’d you call me out here?” He asks tiredly. “Why not Hunk or Lance? They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

  


Pidge shrugs. “I was bored, and you seem the type to show up to late night coffee runs, especially with the promise of free coffee,” She says. “ Lance would have whined about me ruining his beauty sleep, and Hunk doesn’t take well to being woken up.”

  


“Ah,” He nods. He rattles of his order to the barista and moves to find a suitable place for them to sit. She pays for their drinks and joins him, settling into the booth.

  


“So,” She starts conversationally, “What’s up?” (No one said she was very good at small talk.)

  


Keith shrugs. “I’ve been trying to figure out that trick from the other day.”

  


Pidge blinks. “Which one?”

  


“The one where he stuck his hand through 3 inches of glass.”

  


“Oh! That was a hard trick,” Pidge replies excitedly. “Hunk and I asked Lance about it, but even he was stumped!” A lie, but he doesn’t know that.

  


Keith scoffs. “Of course he doesn’t,” He says, scowling. Pidge tilts her head. “He’d never give up his own trick.”

  


“Why are you so sure he’s Blue, anyway?” She asks. “I mean, the police are sure she’s a woman, and she’s been active since we were all kids.” 

  


The Barista calls their names, and they get up to get the drinks. 

  


“He’s stolen from me before,” Keith says, warming his hands with his drink. “The veil only hides half of his face, and he didn’t seem to be trying very hard to hide from me in the first place.”

  


“I’ve been friends with him for years,” Pidge says, trying to push away his suspicions without seeming suspicious herself. “And I never once thought he could be Blue. If anyone could have been Blue, it would have been Meri.”

  


Keith shrugs. “He could have taken up her legacy after the accident. My mom always used to talk about Blue like the name was a title.”

  


“I don’t think so. Lance has never been all that great at lying.” Another lie. _ ( _ _ When do they end?) _

  


Keith narrows his eyes a bit, but shrugs nonetheless. “Call it a hunch,” he says, extending a hand flippantly. “My instincts have always been good.”

  


“I don't know,” Pidge says, pushing at the ice of her drink with her straw. “I’m the kind of person that needs hard evidence to believe anything. I find it hard to believe that Lance of all people possibly be an internationally wanted thief.”

  


“Eh, agree to disagree, then, “ Keith shrugs. 

  


“Don't you think you should give him a chance before trying to arrest him?” Pidge asks. “You don't actually know if he's Blue or not.”

  


“No way,” Keith scoffs, curling and uncurling his fist. “I’ll take down that damn thief no matter what.”

  


“Why do you hate Blue so much, anyway?” Asks Pidge, taking a sip of her coffee. “She’s never actually  _ hurt _ anyone.”

  


Keith snarls and turns away. “He’s the reason my mom is dead.”

  


“What?” She blinks, looking up in shock. “Blue’s never killed any...one…” Realization dawns. “Oh. Oh no, you don’t mean…”

  


Keith doesn’t look up. “Ada was my mother, and Blue killed her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for the next chapter bc its basically like,,, a Magic Kaito ch that i rewrote but like,,, worse???  
> have fun with that


	7. Spilt Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I think I might just hate the color red."
> 
> A look into the past, a heist that ends-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo so i hate myself i was re-reading this chapter and,,,,well,,,
> 
> good luck y'all

Lance rips off his mask and makes a run for it, bleeding and exhausted. He’d never been as grateful for his veil as he was today- the thing really does it’s job to stop the facial recognition features of pretty much anything, including the human brain- with the amount of people who may have seen his face; without it he’d have been caught already. He stops down a narrow alleyway, knees giving in, and he falls to the floor, curled over in pain.

 

There’s a crackle of a radio nearby, and all of the sudden there’s a smooth, feminine voice speaking to him. “You seem to be troubled, little Blue,” purrs the voice, the smile audible.

 

Lance hoists himself off the floor and stares at the walkie-talkie on the floor. “Who are you?” he pants.

 

“Ah, could you not already tell?” She asks. She sounds genuinely surprised. “No matter, I suppose. For now, I am your beneficiary.”

 

-

 

“Congratulations!” The woman croons. “You’ve made it to the safe zone. Aren’t you glad?”

 

Lance gives a pained cough. “I think I’d like it more if I could treat my wounds, thanks.”

 

The woman laughs. “Well enough. But in this weather, you can’t exactly poof away like usual, can you? I’ve helped you.”

 

“Whatever. Get to the point, Red number 40,” He pants, smirking a bit.

 

“Oh, so you found out? Did you hear it from those little police dogs of yours?”

 

He grimaces. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Ah, the rumors have said you tend to act a bit like a lone wolf. No matter, I’ll change your mind soon enough.”

 

“Why do you think I’d work with you?”

 

“Well, I suppose rumors can’t always be trusted. After all, you have those two assistants of yours.”

 

“I told you, I don’t-”

 

“You know, I really love magic. Six years ago, the magician I really looked up to died in a tragic accident, and soon after, Blue disappeared as well. I had thought that that Magician had been Blue, but then Blue popped up again, more active and showy than ever.”

 

He nearly drops the radio in shock, eyes wide.

 

“Of course, this should have been impossible. After all, Blue was injured severely in her last heist. It was impossible for her to do some of the tricks you pulled off. And the other tricks too, ones that needed more than just the human hand…”

 

“Stop!” He shouts, tightening his grip on the radio. “That’s enough!”

 

“You understand now? It’s impossible to escape me. Continue on as normal, and remember, I’ll be watching,” She laughs again. “Even now.”

 

His gaze shoots up, and he sees-

 

A woman, dressed in dark wine reds and grinning sharply. A dark red hood is pulled over long, bright red hair, a gold and white domino mask over her eyes.

 

“And?” He breathes at last. ‘What do you get out of this?”

 

Her grin grows wider.

 

-

 

Pidge is waiting for him at the museum, arms crossed angrily over her chest. “What the hell were you thinking?” She hisses. “I told you not to get involved with her!”

 

Lance laughs. “Relax, Pidge,” He says, looking more relaxed than he feels. “It’ll be fine.”

 

They walk in, Lance pulling roses and other flowers from the air in hopes of calming her down. It doesn’t work, and he turns away with a sigh.

 

“Hello! The magician is here!” He says with a grin. Shiro turns to greet him.

 

“Lance! Just in time. We’re about to run some checks before Ada gets here,” He says, motioning him over. “She’s really strict on this stuff. She’s been chasing Red for years.”

 

 _Great!_ He thinks, walking over with a cheerful smile. _If I just reveal my trick before-_

 

The door slams open, and a woman walks in, observing the whole room. Her sharp brown eyes dig into him, sending unpleasant shivers down his spine. A hand lands on his shoulder, and he surpresses a flinch.

 

“What’s wrong, Blue? Scared you’ll get caught?” Someone says, and he whips around. Matt waves at him with a playful grin. “Just kidding!”

 

Lance sighs. “You scared me!” He says, laughing a little. “Why are you wearing that, anyway?”

 

Matt grins. “There was a spare uniform in the van, and I always wanted to wear one of these things,” He says, motioning to his riot squad gear. “Dad says it’s fine as long I put it back before the heist.”

 

“Wow,” Lance shakes his head and smiles. “Anyway, who’s that? She’s scary.”

 

“That’s Ada, the officer in charge of capturing Red,” Matt replies, looking over at the woman. “She knows her habits best, apparently.”

 

Ada starts walking over, the sharp click of her red heels loud in the quiet room. “So this is the room you’ll be using?” Her gaze scrutinizes the room again. “I see.”

 

Lance tries not to flinch when she glares at him again. “And who are you?”

 

Shiro puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles up at her. “This is our resident magician. He’ll be checking our security system.”

 

“I see,” She says again. “Well, do be careful. Red is a rather cunning foe.”

 

Lance grins nervously. “I will!”

 

-

 

The jewels in question are a pair of black opal earrings. They’re suspended in the air with thick chains and in a thick glass box filled mostly with water. An electric current runs through the chains.

 

“What do you think, Lance? Magic proof enough?”

 

“As long as the lid stays closed!”

 

-

 

“There are 472 riot squad officers total, 6 helicopters, and a few surveillance cameras.”

 

“Yeah. Where did you get this information, anyway?” He finishes tying the curator to the chair and pulls his ID from his pocket, slipping it into his own.

 

“I have my methods. Of course, I would give you an escape route, but I doubt you’ll need it.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get out of here myself.” He tugs the mask over his face and smiles. “Later, Red.”

 

-

 

The acrylic lining does it’s job well. The police force panics, and in the chaos, he pockets the gems and takes off.

 

“Commander Holt! The curator was found asleep in the bathroom!”

 

“Damn! Blue’s already escaped!”

 

“Follow my men, I know Red’s pattern! If he used an escape route Red gave him, We know where he’ll go!”

 

-

 

“Wait!”

 

“Keith? What are you doing here?”

 

“Mom forgot something! Take me with you!”

 

“Ada did?”

 

“Yes! Let’s go, She needs it!”

 

-

 

“That was magnificent, little Blue,” Purrs Red, clapping her hands in a slow motion. “I was right to choose you. You have incredible luck.”

 

Lance tosses the earrings at her, teeth barred. “Here.”

 

“Oh? We were supposed to split the spoils…” She catches them easily, holding them up to the light.

 

“I don’t need it,” He says. “I stole two things.”

 

“Hm. You did well to figure out the escape route I set up for you,” She twirls bright red hair around her fingers. “About the other thing you stole-”

 

“I think those are worth enough to pay off the rest of it,” Lance snaps.

 

“What?” She flinches.

 

“You weren’t exactly subtle. That, and your numbers were off,” He says. “There were only 471 Riot Squad officers. You counted the Commander’s son, who had borrowed one of the uniforms for a short bit.”

 

“I-”

 

“Miss Ada.” He takes a step forward. “Your perfect plan has failed. What will you do now?”

 

“Hmph. You think I don’t have a backup plan for times like this?” She snaps, ripping off her wig and pulling her gun from it’s holster. “I hate people like you, thinking they know everything about me.”

 

“So you’ve killed all the others who figured you out, huh?” says Lance sadly. “You’d go this far for your family? I’m jealous.”

 

“Feel it no longer, then. You won’t be around long enough to care.”

 

Someone slams on the warehouse door. “Mom! Are you in there?” Shouts a voice. “Mom?-”

 

“Keith?” Her gunshot strays to the side, and she stumbles off the rafter. Her gun clatters loudly to the floor. Lance reaches out and catches her wrist.

 

“Drop the earrings and grab on!” He shouts, feeling his glove slipping.

 

“I can’t,” She says sadly. “I need to support my family.” She smiles up at him. “I’m sorry.”

 

The glove slips. She falls to the ground.

 

“NO!”

 

“Mom?” The door slams open.

 

 _My family…_ “Damn it!” Lance grits his teeth and whips out his gun, shooting the mask off her face before anyone can see her.

 

“Mom!” Keith shouts, rushing to her side. “MOM!”

 

“What happened?” Asks Commander Holt. “Did she fall protecting the earrings?”

 

“...From the fact that Blue’s glove is here, she must have tried to save her,” Shiro mumbles. He reaches for it, but Pidge picks it up first and smiles tightly at him. She shakes her head.

 

“There’s a scorch mark in this mask over here!” Matt shouts. “Red and Blue must have had a falling out!”

 

“She must have taken off with the treasure!”

 

 _No,_ Shiro thinks, staring down at her and Keith. _Ada stole it. The only thing Blue stole here was for Keith’s sake…_

 

_The truth._

 

-

 

By the time Lance makes it back home, both Pidge and Hunk are already waiting for him. He stumbles in, breathing heavily, falling straight into Hunk’s waiting arms.

 

“I killed her,” He sobs, latching onto his shirt. “She’s dead, and it’s my fault.”

 

“You tried to save her-” Pidge starts, voice soft.

 

“It wasn’t enough! It’s never enough!” He screams, clinging more tightly to him. “She’s _dead!_ Just like- like...”

 

Hunk wraps his arms around his shoulders and lets him cry.

 

* * *

 

“You knew, didn’t you?” She slams the door open angrily. “You knew the entire time!”

 

Lance turns to look at her, balancing precariously on the countertop. “I know a lot of things, Pidge,” He says, confused. “Most of them I learned from you and Hunk.”

 

“You knew about Keith! About his mom!”

 

Lance pauses, his hands stilling. “Again, I know a lot of things,” he says, voice stilted and warbly. “That’s one thing I never hoped to have to remember.”

 

“That’s- I-” She makes a frustrated noise, blowing stray hair out of her face. “Look, Lance. I just...that was a really hard time for all of us, especially you. And Keith… Keith hates you for it-!”

 

“As he has every right to.”

 

She presses on. “You should at least talk to him! Explain what really happened-”

 

“Ha!” He lets out a loud laugh, dropping down to sit on the granite countertop. “I don’t need to explain myself at all. He’s already figured it out.” He ignores Pidge’s glare and swings his legs. “Shiro was never all that good at keeping secrets and all. He just hates that I couldn’t save her.”

 

“He...that you…”

 

“Yup. He’ll never forgive me, and I really don’t feel like giving him a reason to. I deserve it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooooo  
> hope ya'll like angst bc i ain't done with this one yet  
> i'm milking this backstory for all it's worth


	8. Forget-me-not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A red heist from the eyes of another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy  
> soooooo  
> im just gonna...  
> yeah

 

The phone screen is bright in the darkness of the room, displaying grainy footage of a rooftop and a woman in red. Her back, head, and shoulders cover most of the lower corner of the screen, the rest covered by metal and cement structures cutting across a navy blue sky. 

 

_ Silence. _

 

A few minutes later, the sound sparks to life, a voice- familiar, and yet not, for it’s usual smug smoothness is gone, replaced with a shaky exhaustion, edging on pain-

 

 _“-Get to the point, Red-”_ _grit teeth, bloodied mouth, stained red-on-white suit. Silk gloves curled over the edges of cement railings, torn over the knuckles._

 

A laugh, also familiar, in a way that makes his blood freeze and his eyes widen.  

 

_ “-found out? Did you hear it from those little police dogs of yours?" _

 

_ A low growl. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” _

 

More talking, inconsequential. Voices too familiar, to painful to hear. 

 

 _“-I really love magic. Six years ago, the magician I really looked up to died in a tragic accident, and soon after, Blue disappeared-”_ _A pained gasp, growling anger. The woman’s voice continues_ (too familiar, painful to hear, this can’t possibly be real-) _“-this would be impossible. After all, Blue was injured...Impossible for her to do some of the tricks you pulled off. And the other tricks too, ones that needed more than the human hand-”_

 

 _“Stop!” Anger, grief._ _“That’s enough!”_

 

Realization hits him hard. Betrayal burns in his veins.  _ How many lies did you intend to tell? _

 

_ “-It’s impossible to escape me. Continue on as normal, and remember, I’ll be watching-” Blue eyes shoot up. A glare, dark, fearful. _

 

_ A pause. _

 

_ “And? What do you get out of this?” _

 

_ Silence. _

 

The video ends.

 

Keith sees  _ red. _

 

-

 

He works up the nerve to watch the next two videos a week later.

 

The next video is the longest, material wise, timestamps changing constantly, quality changing constantly, as it switches between clips, cameras.

 

Two familiar faces. One angry, the other smiling.

 

_ “-were you thinking?” Frustration, edging on worry. _

 

He thinks of that night in the coffee shop, the dawning horror in her eyes as she looks up from the ice of her drink. The look of guilt as they parted, out of place at the time. The curl of her fists as she dials a number he hadn’t cared to remember. Perhaps he should have- it would give him more answers.

 

_ “Relax, Pidge-” _ An unfamiliar name. It isn’t hers.  _ “-be fine.” _

 

_ Katie huffs and turns away ignoring any further attempts at placating her. With a shrug and a grin, the magician turns away, waving at the police. More familiar faces. _

 

_ “Lance! Just in time! We’re about to run some tests-” Shiro, smiling softly, easily. Unsuspecting. “-Chasing Red for years.” _

 

_ A grin, blue eyes sparkling. _

 

_ The door slams open, a woman  _ (too familiar) _ sweeping a gaze across the room, stopping over the camera and then over the magician, who freezes under her gaze, taking a slow step back. A riot squad officer claps a hand over his shoulder, and he whips around with a strained smile. _

 

_ “-Blue? Scared you’ll get caught?” A laugh. “Just kidding!” Matt.  _

 

_ More meaningless conversation, unremarkable movements. _

 

_ “-And who are you?”  _

 

_ A flinch.  _

 

_ “This is our resident magician. He’ll be checking our security-” Shiro, fond, eyes soft. Unusual. _

 

_ “-Red is a rather cunning foe.” _

 

_ “I will!” A flash of a bright grin. _

 

_ A test run of the system. A confirmation of success. _

 

_ The timestamp changes. 20 minutes before the heist. _

 

_ A soft yellow light, cramped bathroom stall. One man, unconscious and half dressed, black hair and pale skinned. Another, tanned, identical outfit, pulling a latex mask over his face. Indistinguishable from the other, now. A sly smirk, phone pressed between the ear and the shoulder. Eyes flicker up to the camera briefly, a wink. _

 

_ “-Later, Red.” The smile drops, phone pulled away from the face. Another glance at the camera, pitying. _

 

_ 15 minutes before the heist. _

 

_ The glass covering falls into the water. Frustrated shouting, flustered apologies. _

 

_ 10 minutes. _

 

_ Waiting. The false curator does not move. _

 

_ 5 minutes. _

 

_ Ada shoots a look at the curator. No reaction. _

 

_ 30 seconds. _

 

_ The lights flicker and go out. The camera adapts. The curator doesn’t move. _

 

_ 5 seconds. _

 

_ Smoke.  _

 

_ 4. _

 

_ Laughter, smooth and joyous. _

 

_ 3. _

 

_ Footsteps. _

 

_ 2. _

 

_ The smoke begins to clear. _

 

_ 1. _

 

_ “Ladies and Gentlemen!” _

 

_ 0. _

 

_ The pedestal is empty. _

 

_ The curator steps forward, panicking. Matt points out the floating gems. _ (Opals don’t- shouldn’t float. Why-?)

 

_ “It’s fake! Blue’s stolen the gems!”  _

 

_ A panic. Orders, shouted across rooms. _

 

_ Opals slip into loose pockets. The curator slips away. _

 

_ “-The curator was found asleep in the bathroom!” _

 

_ More shouting.  _

 

_ A hallway, the museum entrance. _

 

_ His own voice, loud. He follows. _

 

_ Silence. _

 

His hunch was right, he knows that for sure now. Lance and Blue are one and the same.

 

The next video plays before he can think more on this revelation. This one is uncut, long and shaky.

 

_ Rafters, metal and cement. Sharp brown eyes, familiar wine red coat . White suit, blue eyes, a veil that blurs the face. _

 

_ A slow clap. “-right to have chosen you.You have incredible luck.” _

 

_ Both earrings make their way into her waiting palms. Surprise furrowing brows behind a white and gold mask. _

 

_ “Here.” _

 

_ “Oh? We were supposed to split the spoils-” Moonlight bouncing off of the gems. _

 

_ “-don’t need it-” A grin, cold and unfeeling. _

 

_ “-did well- I set up for you.” Too bright red hair twirling between perfectly manicured fingers. “About the other thing you stole-” _

 

_ “-think those are enough to pay off the rest of it.” _

 

_ A heavy pause. _

 

_ “What?” Low, dangerous. _

 

_ “-weren’t exactly subtle-” A waved hand, empty smile. “What will you do now?” _

 

_ The wig comes off, catching on a bolt in the rafters. The click of a gun safety. “-hate people like you, thinking they know everything-” _

 

_ “-who figured you out, huh?” A bitter- too bitter- smile. “You’d go this far for your family? I’m jealous.” _

 

_ “-You won’t be around long enough to care.” The gun raises. _

 

_ His own voice again, echoing. The shot goes wide, and the woman stumbles.The gun clatters loudly to the ground. _

 

_ The thief rushes forward, eyes wide. “Drop the earrings and grab on!” Strained, desperate voice, grip tight around her hand. _

 

_ A sorrowful look, sad smile. “I can’t. I need to support my family.” He leans further down, hand tightening on the metal beam. The silk of his glove begins to slip.  _

 

_ “I’m sorry.”  _

 

_ She falls. _

 

_ “NO!” The thief reaches, almost desperately, fingertips grazing hers. He’s crying. _

 

_ “Mom?” His own voice sounds, followed by the door opening with a loud creak. _

 

_ “Damn it…” A low growl.  _

 

_ A soft whistling noise, and then a flash of light. The mask skitters away from the body.  _

 

_ “Mom? MOM!”  _

 

_ Katie takes the glove from her hand and shakes her head at Shiro, who turns a sad look at him. _

 

_ Blue spots the camera and approaches it, steps completely silent. His gaze is heavy and sad. _

 

_ A crunch. _

 

_ Silence. _

 

The footage stops. His earlier anger dims slightly, and he takes a moment to think about what he’s seen.

 

_ Why, _ He thinks, putting the phone down carefully and tugging at the ends of his hair,  _ does he steal? And why was he crying? _

 

-

 

He doesn’t mean to- not really. But after watching those videos, after going through the contents of that red cased phone, he has to know. Maybe he gets it from Shiro, the unbridled curiosity, the need to  _ know. _

 

“Lance?” There’s no pretense, not this time. “I have a question.”

 

Lance looks up from his roses and gives him an empty smile. “Hm? What’s up?” It’s fake, he knows- his eyes are free of the pleasantry his smile suggests, a thinly-veiled fear hiding behind the white of his teeth and the blue of his eyes.

 

“It’s a,” He pauses, shooting a meaningful glance at Shiro, behind him, “private question. If we could, uh, move this to-”

 

“Of course!” Still smiling, Lance leads him inside, snapping his fingers as he goes. There’s a pleased gasp from Shiro outside, and the soft cooing of a dove. The door shuts. 

 

“So,” Lance drawls lazily, stepping away from the door and twirling a rose between his fingers. Any and all traces of pleasantry disappear in an instant. “What was so private that you couldn’t say it in front of your own brother? I hope you aren’t trying to arrest me again, because I’ve already told you, I’m not-”

 

“Thank you,” Keith interrupts, holding his hands up to silence him. “For trying to help her.”

 

Lance blinks. For a second, there’s a flash of  _ something _ in his eyes, something Keith doesn’t recognize. Then there’s a look of bafflement, complete confusion that, if Keith hadn’t seen those videos, hadn’t read those files, he would have believed. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Look,” Says Keith, taking a breath. “I don’t know why you steal-” He holds up his hand again before Lance can interrupt, “-but you really have never hurt anyone. Hell, you tried to save her when she would have killed you. So thank you.”

 

Lance laughs, an edge of something sharp in the sound. “Seriously, Keith, some context would be pretty nice right about now.”

 

Keith sighs and pulls the phone out of his back pocket. “I’m trying to be sincere, here,” He mutters under his breath, unlocking the phone and tapping on the second video. He turns the screen so Lance can see. “But fine.”

 

Lance inhales sharply, taking the phone from his hands and staring with wide eyes as the heist plays out on the little screen. Finally, after it’s over, he hands it back. “Is that saved anywhere else?” He asks, hands shaking. “ _ Anywhere? _ ”

 

“No, but I-” Lance cuts him off with a relieved sigh.

 

“Good,” He says, smiling. “You should delete that. The other two aren’t incriminating, but that one- well, if  _ They _ ever got their hands on it…” He shudders. “Be careful.”

 

“Huh? What are you on about?” Keith asks, brow raised. “I still have my question, you know.”

 

“And what’s that?”

 

“Why are you doing this? You don’t even keep anything you steal.”

 

Lance smiles, soft and sad. “Who knows? I’m just a thief chasing a legend that’s killed far too many.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok im done w/ this now i'll be back when i can continuity properly for the later chapters have fun if you tell me to write faster i'll die ok ok cool i'll be back soon hopefully

**Author's Note:**

> should i say it gets worse or it gets better????


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